Purple Jag
(专辑: The Vatican Mixtape Vol. I - 2007)
[Intro: Raekwon (Postaboy)] What up soldier? (What up playboy?) Yeah, yeah this is Shaolin reporting in (OK) Checking you out, I'm hearing about Force Reveal (yeah, yeah) They said one kid, that's standing real grown out there right now (I, go, by the
name of Posta) That's my man! So, yo, son? (What up, Rae?) You know what you gotta do! [Postaboy:] Aiyo, I
don't give a
fuck what level you on When the
metal is drawn, either your life or your vessel is gone I
don't really wanna hurt ya'll fags but I'm sitting on paper I
got Universal mad, Raekwon in a
purple Jag P.B. in a
canteloupe Hummer with commercial tags Ya'll ask the
chicks who wrap the
bricks I'm out to give Harlem, a
quick flashback of Rich I'm blow like C4, burn up B-More Laying at Cheetah, next day in a
G4 Think like a
veteran, chopping and measuring Always got a
way, but God got eleven in Little kids follow me, women, they acknowledge me New year, new rules, and a
new policy Posta good, Posta hood, Posta real, Posta do what Posta could P.B. stay blowing a
sting When the
girls give me a
hug, they all smell the
drawer in the
mink Go line for line, dart for dart, heart to heart We laying on top of charts See me buggin on Melrose, low top shell toes Suede addition, U.S. don't sell those Posta hot, Posta not, did Posta flop? Please get off of, of Posta cock [Interlude; Postaboy] OK? Ya'll little chumps roll out the
red carpet For the
Postaboy, man, I
got Uncle Rae with me Raekwon the
Chef, is in the
building Might wanna holla! [Raekwon:] Catch me at a
Balley convention, sweater look, worth the
money Auctioning and buy me a
building Matter fact niggas, might try to bubble in it You know, the
X.T. Click, niggas fell in love with it Jumping out of Akademic jumpers, Nike pumps, jewelry down G'ing like Trump, sweetie, you drunk Position my thoughts, heavy loss Root for the
Maybach, one for your girl, you write it off With the
new color, only six made, we in the
world, like Whatever we rocking, that's on the
trade Whata's the
verdict? It's murder, we preserve, niggas Automatic birds, hang gun hammers, grenades, got words on you Swerve on you, browsing, all through your housing Jakes stop me, try to take forty thousand Playing it kid, you won't make a
thousand Yeah, the
Larry Davis version, force to build Shaolin [Outro: sample] But now my time, has come And time, time, is not on you side